Greed's Charity (Seven Deadly Sins Book 1)

by R. A. Pollard

  It took his brain a second to realize the pain. Their touch burned through his skin, layer by layer, leaving trails of blood as his flesh was cut away. They started with his chest, slicing long strips of flesh that they laid out on a table, filled with glittering instruments of torture. Sometimes he could hear them chewing noisily, the slapping of lips and teeth, and he knew they were eating his flesh.

  His demon body tried to heal, tried to repair, which meant they started all over again. Legs, arms, back, shoulders. Their visits sometimes lasted days, an eternity, a few hours. It didn’t matter. They would carve hard and deep, tearing into his soul. The pain was so fierce, it robbed him of his sanity, corrupting his reality so he came to crave it.

  Days passed into years, years into centuries. Sometimes he would be left alone for the longest time, floating somewhere within his mind, remembering a pair of violet eyes, a soft smile and a warm touch. Then they would return, after his skin was healed and fresh to begin again. Those who cut him had always been faceless, their chattering teeth and icy touch would never be gone from his memory.

  When freedom was finally granted, the demon who emerged from that prison wasn’t the same one who went in. The world had become a nightmare for him. Too much noise, too much everything. Craving oblivion had become a daily seduction, calling him back to the abyss.

  Then she came, a shining light in the void, the same eyes… What was her name? The woman who had been the catalyst for his torment? He could almost picture her: shy, demure, yet a hidden fire contained in her eyes.

  Kathrine. The name floated through his mind. The woman he now craved wasn’t her faded face. But her eyes…she had the same eyes. Had Kathrine been reborn? Was Isabelle sent by fate to condemn him once more to darkness? Or to pull him, kicking and screaming, into the blinding light? What would she think when his soul was laid bare before her? When the scars of his soul were as exposed as those on his body?

  CHAPTER TEN

  The drive across town back to the university campus was mostly in silence. Isabelle was dressed again in her dress from the night before, desperation clinging to her. She felt a growing urge to change out of it and find clean clothes as soon as possible. Then and only then she might feel a little more human.

  Abbadon was behind the wheel of a very nice BMW 3 Series. Isabelle kept watching him, opening her mouth to speak, then closing it again. As they pulled up to a stop light, Abbadon turned in his seat and pinned her with his metal stare. “Spit it out woman. You’re going to give me a complex at this rate.”

  Isabelle blushed and tucked a curl behind her ear. “Sorry, I just…look this is hard for me, okay? Trying to wrap my head around it all is giving me a migraine.” Turning her eyes back to the street, she watched the people passing by, oblivious to the real world around them. “How can they just act like nothing is happening?” Her voice sounded strained, even to her own ears.

  “To them, nothing is happening. Humans continue in their lives, like fireflies living for the moment. Bright and fleeting, yet burning out a second later. It’s what makes your species so special. You have the power to ignore the darkness. Living in your own little worlds of light, until the inevitable trickle of time takes you on to the next world.”

  “It sounds like you admire us.” Isabelle turned her eyes to the Sin of Sloth beside her. He gave her a dazzling smile as the car pulled away from the stop light.

  “Of course I do. How could I not? I have been alive a long time, Isabelle. I have watched war, famine, and hate ravage this world. Despite it all, humans have endured, taking such destruction and turning it into life. It is one of the greatest powers of humanity. But also your greatest weakness. What comes with growth and prosperity is sin, and this is where my brothers and I come in.”

  “Okay, so I am still fuzzy on what it is you demons actually do. Demons in human literature are considered evil, coming from hell to lead us from the path of God. Isn’t that what you do, as the Seven Sins? Lead humans to damnation?” Abbadon sighed and pulled the car over into a spot along the curb. He gave her a strained smile.

  “Would you like some ice cream? I would. Come on and I will explain it all.”

  Isabelle blinked as he slid from the car and jogged around, opening her door for her before she had the chance. From his reaction to her question, it was clear she had upset him. It hadn’t been her intention. Leaving the car, she walked with him in silence until they reached the Baskin Robbins. Holding the door, he kept close to her the whole time, seemingly on edge.

  After ordering herself a Choc Mint swirl, she stood, mouth open, as Abaddon ordered the most mixed up ice cream a person could come up with and proceeded to have every type of topping sprinkled on it. The look in his eyes, as he was handed the creamy monstrosity, was pure joy. A chuckle escaped her when she glanced down at her rather pathetic two scoops of mint. Following behind him, they entered a small park, Abbadon digging into his diabetic-coma-in-a-tub with gusto.

  “You sure you’re not the Sin of Gluttony instead?” Isabelle asked.

  Abbadon glanced at her, his eyes wide, spoon hanging from his mouth. Laughing, she dropped down onto a bench, and he gave her a shrug.

  “Belor? No, but he has an odd little affliction. He is unable to ingest food. Considering his sin is gluttony, it’s an oxymoron. He has to feed from the corrupted souls we hunt.” Isabelle felt for the Sin of Gluttony, being unable to eat? These men definitely didn’t live a life of moonlight and roses did they?

  “Okay, so you didn’t answer my question. What is it exactly you seven do?” Isabelle waited as Abbadon took a seat beside her and tilted his head back. His dark grey, almost black, eyes reflected the blue sky as if they were mirrors. The sun shone on his dark obsidian skin, and she had to admit he was stunning to look at. If the long looks other women gave him were anything to go by, he knew it too.

  “Humans are capable of great kindness and unending humility. But on the flip side of that, there are those who embrace the darker sins of man. Greed, lust, pride, gluttony, envy, wrath and of course…” He gestured to himself. “Sloth, we existed long before man tied us to their one God and called us the Seven Deadly Sins. These sins have infected the world of mortals since they were released into being, as, too, have we.”

  “When a human feels lust, or greed, hell any of the sins, they are at a tipping point. Will they allow their sin to sink in and corrupt them, or will they fight back and rise above it? When a human embraces the sin within them—let’s say lust for example—that sin becomes everything, their very reason for being. Nothing makes them happy but fulfilling that desire. They descend into the darkness of their soul. What was once good in them is gone. They become dark, and the darkness affects those around them like a virus, infecting people with sin. Have you ever noticed when humans are in large groups and the group turns ugly, everyone, regardless of age, gender, or race seems to become one entity?”

  “Mob mentality?” Her ice cream long forgotten, she listened to his words with rapt attention.

  “Precisely. They lose their inner humanity, and will pretty much follow the mob, even if it means killing another human. I don’t mean to say they don’t regret it later, but in the moment, they lose their ability to see reason. We call such events Blights, a dark mark on an area, where the sin of one human has infected others. My brothers and I, we hunt these dark spots to find the corrupted soul and remove it from the world.”

  Isabelle didn’t answer right away, just listening, processing his words as Abbadon dug into his sweet treat. Putting her ice cream down, she turned to him.

  “Is there no hope for them? After they become corrupted I mean.”

  “If there is hope, we see it when we look into their souls. We only take those who are truly lost. If we stopped, then history would repeat itself.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “The Dark Ages, the Fall of Rome, French Revolution, World Wars, Boston Riots, any great event that involved rage, greed, pride or lust. All began with one s
oul and the Blight they created.”

  Isabelle went quiet, looking out over the park, watching families sitting on picnic blankets, children chasing one another, people walking their dogs, greeting joggers as they passed. It was hard to believe such human atrocities could come from one soul. Yet as she let the knowledge sink in, it began to make more and more sense. History was filled with mass murders, people turning on one another, countries wanting, coveting what another had and doing anything to acquire it. Suddenly she felt sick to her stomach.

  “Our job is to manage the balance by removing the Blight before it can affect those around it. Even then, we can’t always stop the tide. When the Blight becomes too great, we try and save those we can. People like you have such a light inside them, such goodness, the dark souls are drawn to it in hopes they can, in some way, make their way back to the light. I have yet to see anyone turn away from the sin within them once it has taken over.”

  “You make us sound weak.” Her voice sounded small, even to her own ears, and the weight of this revelation sat heavy on her heart. He reached out and pulled gently on one of her fly away curls, bringing her eyes to his. He smiled softly and tucked the curl behind her ear.

  “Far from it. I have seen redemption of those so close to darkness, it amazed me. You can see the light inside such a soul as Mammon’s brings me hope.”

  “Mammon?”

  “Greed. His true name is Mammon. But since he was released from confinement, he won’t respond to his name. Tells us to call him Greed. He had lost himself. Until you, Isabelle.”

  Abaddon grinned at her as a soft blush colored her cheeks. Damn demon, making her blush. It took a few seconds for her brain to catch up with his words. “What do you mean—confinement?”

  “It’s not my story to tell. Come on, we best get you to your dorm, or Mammon will be hunting me down, thinking I absconded with you.” The demon pushed himself to his feet and offered his hand to Isabelle. With a smile, she took it, her mind turning over his words. Greed, no Mammon, had been confined. What had he done to deserve such punishment?

  Isabelle pushed open the door to her dorm room, wincing at the scream that breached the silence. A one hundred and five pound blonde almost threw herself from the small couch across the tiny living space.

  “Where in the hell have you been? You just left me at the party! Wandered off! No one has seen you since! I come home, no Isabelle. I mean goddamn, it’s not like you would have found…” Natalie stopped midsentence, her eyes wide as she stared at the hulk of a male who was crowding the doorway.

  Grabbing Isabelle’s arm, Natalie pulled her further into the room. Isabelle winced at the contact, and the rush of emotions began to batter her mental walls. Natalie’s emotions, as always, were a whirlwind of interest in the new male. Peppered in was worry for her, worry about what she would tell the police because she had been a bad friend and forced Isabelle to go out. Isabelle felt a stab of guilt for making her roommate worry so much. Natalie pitched her voice low, giving Abbadon a once-over with a critical eye before leaning in for girl talk.

  “Did you hook up with Mr. Dark and Studly there? Please tell me you lost the big V!”

  “Nat, shut up!” She felt her skin heat with a blush. It was bad enough she wanted to climb up his brother’s body and lick him all over, now he had to know she was a virgin too? Could this day get any worse?

  “It’s okay, ladies. I can hear you just fine.” His grin could have melted steel. Isabelle felt her friend turn into a puddle of womanly mush at the demon’s feet.

  “You’re not helping!” Isabelle hissed at him. He just shrugged. Ass.

  Natalie looked at her like she had grown a second head, grabbing Isabelle’s arm and pulling her further into the room. “Spill it. Name, age, sexual orientation, and does he look as good with his clothes off as my imagination thinks he does? Will he taste as sweet if I lick—”

  “All right! Enough! I don’t need to hear anymore. La la la la.” Isabelle covered her ears, so not wanting to hear what part of Abbadon’s anatomy Natalie wanted to lick.

  Abbadon just kept smiling and closed the door behind him, his voice filling the room, stealing the very air. Though Natalie may have lusted after him, Isabelle remained unaffected by his apparent sexual draw. Only one Sin got her blood heated, and he was off sulking somewhere.

  “The name is Abbadon. I’m 32. Sexual orientation, anyway I can get it, and yes, I do look as good as your imagination thinks I do. As for sweet? Honey, you just need to come see for yourself.” His tone could have ignited the very air in the room. Natalie was five seconds from kneeling at his feet and worshipping him as a god. Isabelle rolled her eyes with a groan and left her friend to salivate over the hunk of male taking up the room.

  Leaving the room, she heard Natalie asking if his name was foreign. Geez, the woman was incorrigible. If it had a penis and looked like it belonged on the cover of GQ, she was all over that.

  Isabelle paused at the entrance to their shared bedroom. Had it only been forty-eight hours—hell, less than that—since her world had been turned upside down? Demons and Blights. And what did Lucifer call her? Oh yes, a Seer. So much for her little life plan. It had all been blown up and turned to dust by one very intense, green-eyed demon.

  Just thinking about Mammon brought a smile to her lips, and she pulled the bottom one between her teeth. Excitement curled in her tummy at the thought of seeing him again. Grabbing her duffle bag from the end of the bed, she shoved clothing into it. She paused to look over her underwear selection. She hardly had what one would call sexy tastes. They were all conservative and useful, some with lace, but nothing that shouted ‘I’m a smoking hot mamma. Come and spank me!’

  First things first, she needed to change out of this damn dress, have a shower, and finally get in some clean clothes. Biting her bottom lip again, she remembered the only slinky, black dress she owned, hanging unused and abused in the corner of her closet. Her imagination played hell with her body as she wondered what shade of green his eyes would turn when he saw her in it.

  Heat curled in her belly at the idea of Mammon looking at her with those smoldering eyes, his fingers guiding her to such heights of pleasure it would bring her to her knees. Shaking her head, Isabelle mumbled about beautiful men and how they affected women’s rational brains. She was totally distracted when an icy chill rushed through the room and the raging emotions of disgust surged through her.

  Turning quickly, duffle bag in hand, she came face to face with an angel. A goddamn real-life angel! He stood watching her, his lip curling. He had long, straight black hair. His eyes reminded her of Abbadon’s. They were so dark, they looked black, but these eyes were dead, devoid of any sort of joy. He was a black hole of rage, hate, and revulsion. The huge silver and black wings upon his back flicked out, causing Isabelle to stumble back a step.

  “Seer…” If sheer terror could be caused by a voice, it would be his. It sucked all light from the soul. This was how she had expected demons to feel, this endless pool of despair, but they were blazing suns compared to him.

  “What do you want?” Her eyes flicked to the door. Abbadon was out there, if she could get out the room. Her hands tightened on the duffle bag. The angel tilted his head to the side, as if he were considering her very existence and finding it wanting.

  “You, we want you. Do not consider running. I will kill the female and the demon if you resist.” Isabelle felt the burning in her eyes and nose as her body threatened tears. She sucked in a breath, the sensation like trying to breathe with a ton of rocks on her chest. She knew without a doubt he would kill Natalie and Abbadon if she resisted. The angel took one step towards her, and the scream caught in her throat.

  “Why? I’m no one.” Isabelle knew if she went with him, she would die. But what choice did she have?

  Closing her eyes for a second, she reinforced the walls around her mind, shielding herself from the crashing of his black emotions. She opened them again, clarity coming to her. She wa
sn’t going without a fight. The angel took one more step, and she threw the duffel bag at his face. Now covered in panties and t-shirts, his shocked look was priceless. His growl, however, was of sheer rage.

  Isabelle turned to run, but his hand closed around her throat, pulling her back against his cold body. His hiss was cruel against her ear, and his breath made her skin crawl. Struggling against the grip around her neck, her nails scratching, digging into his arm, his words froze her heart.

  “Stupid little mortal. Do you not understand? You are everything.” His hand tightened just as the door to her room burst inward, showering wood around the room. Not one splinter hit the angelic being who held her.

  Flames of black danced over the ebony skin of the demon before her, his metal eyes burning with rage. The angel yanked her back, and she felt her neck crack at the rough handling. A sick grin spread across his face as he locked his eyes on the demon.

  “Abbadon, it has been a while, has it not?”

  “Not fucking long enough to see your face again, Uriel. Let the female go, she is just some woman.” Isabelle watched Abbadon’s hands morphing into claws, the flames sending licks of painted silver over his skin.

  “Now, now, demon. Humans are so fragile. I would not wish to kill her accidently.” His hand tightened around her throat again, cutting off her air supply. She could feel pressure building in her head. Her vision swam with black dots.

  “If you harm her, it will be war, angel. Mammon will never stop looking for her.” The hiss that left Abbadon was downright feral.

  “That brother of yours should be locked away. Again. I am not sure he has any humanity left. Shame really. He was always the fun one.” His dead eyes turned to Isabelle, the sick smile spreading on his angelic lips once more.